


Don't Keep Me Waiting, This Night is Fading (Take Me Home)

by br0ken_hands



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hollywood, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-03 21:53:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16333907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/br0ken_hands/pseuds/br0ken_hands
Summary: Yasha is an up-and-coming Hollywood star with major roles lined up for her, but her publicist fears for her public perception - being stoic and scary all the time is good for movies, not so much for public relationsLuckily, Gustav is friends with the publicist of world-class athlete Beauregard Lionett, who is desperately trying to fix Beau's public image after she got into a public row with her familyCue the red carpet date, and the ensuing high profile love story that has TMZ on the edge of their seats





	Don't Keep Me Waiting, This Night is Fading (Take Me Home)

_Bang_.

 

The door slams open and Yasha's head turns up from her book as Gustav strides into the room, coattails flying.

 

Yasha sighs. She loves her publicist, she really does, but Gustav is eccentric in all the ways she isn't, and as much of an asset it is while he's doing his job, well, Yasha would be lying if she said she relished spending every other minute of her day with him.

 

"A month until the red carpet, Yasha." He says, flitting over to the wardrobe and shuffling through the outfits hanging from racks, "I hope you've gone to see the tailor for measurements?"

 

Yasha makes a noncommittal grunt, looking back down at her book. "Two weeks ago."

 

It's a star-studded celebrity gala for some charity or another and as Hollywood's newest young star, Yasha had been roped into attending, which is... unfortunate. Her place has only ever been in front of filming cameras, not the flash and dazzle of tabloid cameras. Strange as it is, Yasha had qualms with being before certain cameras.

 

Gustav pulls out a red dress and tilts his head, turning to Yasha and holding it up, squinting. He hums. "This will do, yes?"

 

Yasha's eyes flit up and she grimaces. The last time she wore that thing, she nearly punched her date in the face. Not that he didn't deserve it. The champagne spilt on his lap _by accident_ made it worth it though. "I'm going to be wearing a suit, Gustav."

 

Gustav tsks, setting the dress back on the rack. "You might have to fight your date for your right to do so."

 

Yasha's grimace turns into a frown and she closes the book in her lap. Well, this was a new development. And one Gustav didn't discuss with her beforehand. "You know how I feel about dates."

 

"And you know we've talked about this before." Gustav turns to face Yasha, his hands clasped behind his back. "You are the most marketable young star under the lights, Yasha. You've got it all. The talent, the body, the smoulder, the big titles, the money, all you're missing is the friendly face, and darling," Gustav crosses the room and runs a gentle hand over Yasha's cheek, "you have impeccable cheekbones but your stoic persona doesn't scream personable. Just this time, Yasha? Just let the public see you with someone on your arm so they stop calling you a frigid sociopath? It's really bad for business. Just once."

 

Yasha sighs, running her hands over fondly creased pages. Gustav rarely asks, and so what Gustav wants, Gustav gets. Usually.

 

"What's his name? I do hope that you picked someone who has manners this time..."

 

Gustav grins, and Yasha thinks she sees something glint in his eyes. Weird. "You know I'd never do you wrong, Yasha. And _her_ name, is Beauregard. Beauregard Lionett."

 

\--

 

Yasha sits at the table on the patio of the café, drumming her fingers on the tabletop. Her tinted sunglasses provide some relief from the sun beating down on LA streets, but clearly, the chin tattoo is still too iconic for the disguise to work. If the guy across the street conspicuously looking at his phone isn't paparazzi, he might as well soon be.

 

Gustav sits across from her, empty espresso cup in front of him. He fiddles with the buttons on his shirt and sighs. He lifts his sunglasses to squint at the sun.

 

"Lovely day, no?"

 

Yasha nods gently in affirmation. Gustav had kindly handed her a dossier filled with information on her date. Beauregard Lionett. Rising rugby star whose reputation is currently slightly tarnished by a public row she had with her parents over her sexuality.

 

_Yasha frowned. "I don't know, Gustav. She's..."_

 

_"Volatile? A liability? Sure, but Yasha," he leaned in close and Yasha grimaced, "this is a win-win situation. She shows that she's independent and fits the 'overcomer' trope, you show that you have character other than cold, stony, and brooding."_

 

_"What are you saying-"_

 

_"I'm saying that you're great for the stoic hero archetype, but people aren't connecting with you, Yasha. You need to show people that you can, in fact, be approachable and loveable."_

 

_"I like to think that I'm lovable enough. Frumpkin likes me well enough."_

 

_"That's not the point and you know it."_

 

_"And why a her? What are the tabloids going to say? I'm not even-"_

 

_"What? Gay? Not every date is that kind of a date, Yasha, surely you know that. And since when did you care what the tabloids said?" Gustav sighed, rubbing his temples. "Give it one date, Yasha. If you don't like her, we'll figure something else out."_

 

There's movement out of the corner of her eye and Yasha tilts her head when she sees two women make their way out onto the patio. If Gustav thought she had overdressed with a pressed white shirt and black slacks when they left, well, Yasha feels the same way now.

 

"Ah, mon chère!" Gustav exclaims, throwing his arms around a bald, disgruntled woman.

 

'Gustav."

 

Gustav pulls his arms away and clears his throat. The woman stares him down.

 

"Right. Yes. Yasha? This is Beauregard."

 

"Beau."

 

Yasha raises an eyebrow. _Oh_. She hadn't expected that voice. The woman in front of her pulls off a pair of aviators, revealing bright blues and a cocky half-grin. She's in a white v-neck that shows off tawny skin and skinny jeans that... Yasha's never been this attracted to legs.

 

Yasha stands, inconspicuously wiping suddenly sweaty hands on her slacks and reaching out to meet a firm handshake. "Yasha. Charmed."

 

"Yasha, play ni-"

 

"Not as charming as you, clearly."

 

_Oh, she's a sweet-talker too._

 

Beau cocks her head to the side and gives her a once over. "Dairon?"

 

"Yes, Beau?"

 

"Good work."

 

Yasha feels a flush of heat rise to her cheeks and she wets her lips to respond, but she's distracted again by a much clearer sound of a shutter going off. Gods, the paparazzi are going to go crazy over this.

 

There's the sound of the dragging of a chair, and Gustav motions for Beau to sit. "Please, Dairon and I will give you two some room to talk. Coffee, cake, whatever, it's on me."

 

He swirls away with Dairon on his heels with flair, and Yasha lets out a deep sigh when she's finally alone with Beau.

 

"Shall we make your publicist regret his kind offering?"

 

\--

 

By the end of their rendezvous? date? , Yasha knows more about rugby than she ever really cared to learn about, has seen Beau tuck away a terrifying amount of food, and watched with amusement as Gustav tried not to show his shock at the bill.

 

"So," He says, driving Yasha back to the house, "what do you think?"

 

Yasha looks out the window of the convertible. LA speeds past, blurring as they get onto the highway. She's still half-hypnotised by Beau's brilliant smile and easy-going charm. There's something effortlessly cool and Yasha feels her heart lurch at the thought of Beau throwing her that half-smile at her again. "She'll do."

 

"Oh?" Yasha spares him a glance and Gustav's eyebrow is raised and he's grinning. "That's a better response than anything else I've ever set you up on. Shall I book a second date before the event then?"

 

"Don't push your luck, Gustav."

 

Yasha folds her arms across her chest and leans back, letting the wind rip through her hair. _She'll do indeed._

 

\--

 

 

Yasha stands in the foyer, dark blue silk suit jacket pressed against a starched white shirt. Her back feels a little stiff like this, standing ramrod straight with her hands clasped in front of her, but her tapping foot conveys more nervousness than impatience.

 

Gustav flits around her, straightening collars and brushing stray hairs back into her braids. "You look splendid, my friend." He mutters, anxiously refolding her pocket handkerchief.

 

Yasha grunts, tightening her watch strap slightly. 30 seconds until the limo arrives. Until Beau arrives.

 

"Don't forget to smile for the cameras, darling."

 

Yasha breathes out through her nose. 15 seconds.

 

She can hear wheels ride up pavement and Gustav claps excitedly. The doors are thrown open and Yasha follows her excitable publicist down the stairs. A sleek car pulls up and Gustav opens the door with a flourish.

 

Yasha nods her head in thanks.

 

"Have fun, love." Gustav grins, then leans in salaciously. "Should I expect you home?"

 

Yasha laughs, surprised "I thought you knew that I wasn't a 'kiss on the first date' kind of girl, but I'll tell you if I change my mind. And Gustav? Thank you."

 

Gustav shoots her a discrete wink that leaves a small smile on Yasha's lips as she steps into the car.

 

Beau is lounging in the back of the limousine,  cobalt blue suit almost midnight in the dim lighting. There's a champagne flute tilted in long fingers and Yasha swallows. _Gods, she's gorgeous._

 

"Ms. Lionett."

 

Beau grins, settling further back into the leather seat. Her knees are spread casually and Yasha navigates carefully around one leg to take a seat for herself.

 

"Call me Beau, if you would please. I am your date, after all."

 

Yasha takes an empty flute and fills it halfway with champagne. She raises it to Beau's, eyebrow lifted. "Beau then. To making the cover of People Magazine."

 

Beau laughs and it's heavenly. "To being the hottest couple on the red carpet."

 

Glasses clink gently and bubbly liquid touches Yasha's lips.

 

"Ready, madams?" The driver asks, and Yasha looks at Beau.

 

"About as much as we could ever be. Let's go."

 

\--

 

The car pulls up to the carpet and already, Yasha can hear the roar of commotion. A door is opened and Yasha fixes the front of her suit jacket. Stepping out, she smiles for the camera for a second before turning and reaching a hand out to Beau.

 

"M'lady."

 

Beau rolls her eyes affectionately but takes the proffered hand and steps out into the LA night.

 

The camera flash and constant chatters of reporters always irked Yasha to some degree. She could handle it, such is the duty of the rising star of Hollywood, but she never relished in it. Not in the way Beau does. She might put up a face and grumble about the paparazzi, but one look at her and Yasha sees that Beau thrives in this environment, fielding questions left and right, smiling just enough for the camera operator to want more of her face.

 

Yasha pushes through the questions thrown at her with her trademark one-line answers, but she's still sure the camera catches her eyes flitting over to Beau at every possible chance.

 

And how could she not? Beau looks like a dream, tailored slacks and her top two buttons of the shirt undone, hands loose at her sides, hair pulled up in a gorgeous braid, and with the sun like this, her face is even prettier than the day they met. God, TMZ is going to have a field day.

 

A hand finds the small of her back and she looks down to see Beau at her side.

 

"-and of course you all know Yasha, my date for tonight."

 

A reporter, thrusts a mic close to Beau's face, chasing for more answers. Yasha casts a glance at the mic. The Hollywood Reporter. Of course.

 

"So how did you two end up at this event together?"

 

Beau giggles. _Giggles!_ "Good coffee and cake, honestly."

 

Yasha watches Beau banter with the mic, effortlessly beautiful. _Gods, she's beautiful._

 

"Well thank you so much, I hope you two have an excellent evening."

 

"Thank you as well!"

 

Yasha blinks out of it when Beau turns to her, blue eyes shining.

 

"All good?"

 

That smile is patently unfair.

 

"Yeah." She breathes, looking up to the doorway of the building, "Let's go."

 

\--

 

The main event comes and passes without much fanfare and Yasha, much to her pleasant surprise, discovers she's content to be at a table with Beau on her arm - and it's not truly until the afterparty that things pick up again.

 

The tables are cleared away and somebody has brought in a 5 piece string orchestra and a grand piano. It feels slightly stuffy for the time and people, but Yasha watches from the corner as people swirl around the room and maybe she gets a little bit of why people like this so much.

 

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Beau comes back from the restroom where she went to deal with a little bit of raspberry puree from the desert that found its way on her lapel instead of her mouth. Utterly adorable, until Yasha remembered that there were cameras everywhere.

 

"Oh good..." Beau mutters under her breath, watching the cellist play, "a dance." There's an almost childish delight that gleams in her eyes and Yasha breathes out slowly, willing her heart to calm.

 

She extends a hand out. "A dance, then?"

 

Beau turns her head back and dear gods, Aphrodite has nothing on her. She smiles and puts her hand in Yasha's. "Take it away."

 

There are no swirling dresses to speak of, no bodices that end where the shoulders begin, no careful stepping around heeled feet, just two women dressed in shades of blue, pressed against each other, waltzing slowly to the music.

 

Yasha presses her nose closer to the nape of Beau's neck and breathes her in. Something beachy, a little sea-salt, something citrusy. She wonders how she must look to the cameras now, wrapped in the arms of another woman, in a tux no less, dancing among Hollywood's elite. She wonders what the tabloids would say now that she's been seen with a woman - would the speculate? Hell, would she speculate for herself? This is new, but feels so right anything else seemed wrong.

 

"What are you thinking about?"

 

Beau's whisper brushes past her ear and Yasha shivers for a moment.

 

Yasha pulls her head back for a moment to look at Beau's face, smiling. "You."

 

"Oh? What about?"

 

"You're a pretty great date."

 

A couple swishes past them and Yasha is acutely aware of how they've slowed, almost to nothing more than a sway.

Beau smiles, cheeks pink. "I think you're a pretty great date yourself."

 

"Do you think you would mind if I took you out more often?"

 

"To events like this?"

 

"Yes- no, not just like this. On regular things. Dates."

 

Beau hums happily and rests her head on Yasha's chest. There's a moment's pause, and Yasha wonders if Beau can hear her heartbeat.

 

"I wouldn't mind."

 

Yasha squeezes Beau's hand gently, letting the music continue to lead their dance.

 

"I'm glad."

 

\--

 

By the time the midnight has come and gone and Gustav has the door opened wide for her return, Yasha is sporting a small smile.

 

"Good evening, Yasha. An excellent event, I hope?"

 

Yasha tilts her head in acknowledgement, the smile never leaving her lips. "An excellent evening indeed."

 

She passes through the foyer into the sitting room and takes off the suit jacket, hanging it around the back of a chair. She can feel Gustav's excitement behind her.

 

"Is there something you want to ask, Gustav?"

 

He looks like a five-year-old boy, practically about to explode with the need to ask: "How was your date?"

 

Yasha smiles, finding a seat on the couch and leaning into it, undoing the top two buttons of her shirt. "She was great, thank you."

 

Gustav sits across from her, eyes still alight with questions.

 

Yasha sighs. She wasn't getting away with this.

 

"Wonderful, really. Had on the most dashing suit I've ever seen in my life, soft-spoken but so charismatic for the cameras, she is lovely. Really. Thank you."

 

"Yes, but did you get a kiss or not?"

 

Ah, there it is. Yasha folds one foot over the other. "... yes."

 

Gustav jumps to his feet. "Hah! I told you, Ms. I-Don't-Kiss-On-The-First-Date! Did you initiate or-"

 

Yasha smiles and shakes her head.

 

_The limo pulled up to her property, the vehicle slowing down as they approached her door._

 

_She turned to Beau who looked back at her with stars in her eyes. She felt like the breath has been pulled from her lungs all night and she's not sure if she wanted to breathe ever again._

 

_"Thank you for the date." It barely came out as a whisper, and she thought she saw Beau's eyes light up at that, even in the dim light. Her collar was slightly rumpled from their dance, a few flyaway hairs framing her face, and Yasha thinks she's in love._

 

_Reaching for Beau's hand, Yasha pressed a kiss to battered knuckles, eyes locked onto beautiful blues._

 

_Beau huffed a laugh, shook her head, and turned her hand in Yasha's, cupping her chin. She brought Yasha's face close until their noses are brushing, breaths mingling. Yasha's heart stopped and the blood in her ears roared, drowning out everything but Beau's quiet whisper._

 

_"You can do better than that."_

 

_Yasha felt soft lips brush against her and she leaned in the rest of the way, the rest of the world fading away._

 

"Well then, she defies all expectation."

 

Yasha bites her lip a little, staring off into the distance. She can still taste the champagne from Beau's lips and she closes her eyes, breathing in deep.  _Damn right she does._

 

There's a muffled buzz of her phone vibrating with a message and Yasha's eyes flutter open.

 

Gustav smirks at the sound, before turning around to leave and give her some privacy. "Have a good night, Yasha."

 

Yasha watches as he exits the room and begins to make his way up the grand staircase before she pulls her phone out of her pocket.

 

[Beau: 01:47]

Grabbed your number from your publicist, thanks Gustav!. I had a great time tonight, see each other again soon?

 

_Thank you Gustav indeed._

**Author's Note:**

> This was 100% a self-indulgent fic written on the SLEEVES discord that somehow made its way onto actual paper, which explains why it's so jumpy and fragmented. No betas, we die like bad writers.  
> Per usual, thanks to SLEEVES for encouraging my foolishness.  
> Slo, if you're reading this, thank you for indulging in your Beauyasha in suits ideas with me.
> 
> Tumblr: frumpkinspocketdimension  
> Discord: SweetBabyRae#0967
> 
> Title from Take Me Home by Midnight Red.


End file.
